Chains of Existence
by Celestial Fey
Summary: Heavy AU. A Psychic Link, the ghost of a boy who was never born, a goth girl who sees ghosts and a technogeek suspicious that his best friend is being haunted. What could have been, but wasn't supposed to be. DannyxSam, minor TuckerxJazz
1. Chapter 1

**A word from the author: **

This is... a pretty confusing fanfiction idea, honestly. At the center of the idea is this being a possibility of from the time travel episode, but it also incorporates ideas of the supposed Psychic Link between Danny and Sam, and also a few other elements that I came up with. This is the reality where Vlad and Maddie got married, and Jack lived alone and single in the Fenton House.

But this story is not about Vlad or Maddie or even Jack. This is the story of Phantom, the manifestation of Danny's unborn soul, tied to the living by his Psychic Link with Sam. And of the Sam of this reality, who grew up with Danny always by her side. Jazz, stuck as less-than-a-ghost due to having never lived to have an obsession. And of course of Tucker, a technogeek who is concerned that his best friend is being haunted, while meanwhile being involved with ghosts on his own.

* * *

_**Prologue: Drifting**_

_In the air above Amity Park, a spirit drifted aimlessly. The spirit had few thoughts, the mentality of a small baby, and was too weak to do anything but float on any breeze of spiritual energy that came its way, sometimes influencing the path a tiny amount, drifting towards whatever felt warm._

_It drifted. Onward. It didn't know how long it had existed, and it wasn't intelligent enough to wonder. It was a weak little thing, small, too weak too manifest in human eyes - or even nonhuman. Had anyone or anything been able to see it, they would have seen a shape, a white little mist of energy that was almost but not quite humanoid. Perhaps months passed in its meager excuse for existence, perhaps years._

_And still it drifted._

_Like a jellyfish, with only the merest semblance of life to it, the spirit drifted this way and that, unable to feel anything but the most simple of sensations. It did not know how long it had been like that, or who it might have been, or really, anything at all. It was simply there, cold, almost lifeless, a spirit that did not exist, it was only there. It took some measure of joy in the colours of the sky, the warmth of the sun, but the night was when it felt happiest. The stars made it..._

_Feel..._

_Then suddenly, something changed. It could not tell what, really, being too weak and too young to know, all it knew was that it did not feel so cold anymore. There was warmth, coming from within the town, a brilliant warmth that filled it with strength. The strength was not necessary, though. Energy was drawing him forward, warm and bright, cradling the spirit in its gentle waves. As the spirit moved forward, though still not strong enough to appear to the human eye, it began to take a vague form that became steadily less vague as it approached the source of that strange warmth._

_The spirit was strong enough to land when it reached the source. The spirit curled next to the source of warmth, radiating contentment._

_

* * *

  
_

_**Chapter One: Haunted.**_

"There goes the little goth girl, what a freak."

"I know! I heard like, that she was a witch or something!"

"I heard her house is haunted..."

"I heard-"

Tucker tuned out the usual whispers that accompanied his best friend, Samantha Manson. He didn't like them, but he'd known her for years and knew how to ignore them. Instead of dwelling, he turned to her with a smile. "Hey Sam."

"Hi Tucker."

Her dark clothes, purple and black makeup, dark hair and pale skin made her look odd and scary, someone who tried to avoid people. But that wasn't how she really was, and when she smiled, Tucker knew that he was best friends with the most beautiful girl in the school, and he silently regretted the fact that he could never muster feelings for her besides those of a close friend. Beautiful or not, Sam was like his little sister. He would protect her with his life, chase off any guys who made the moves on her unless he was absolutely certain they wouldn't break her heart.

She was his best friend, but somehow, he knew he wasn't hers. Oh, he was definitely up there, definitely close to her heart, but there was someone closer, who she never spoke of and he'd never met. A boy she loved and whose mind she knew as well if not better than her own. He didn't mind. She was like his sister. Sam had secrets that he might never know, but he knew that he was also the only person who might _ever_ know.

Except for the mystery boy.

"Ready for first period English?" Tucker asked, leaning against his locker. Sam's was next to his, and she walked up to it, not even touching the lock as she opened the locker door. It wasn't that the lock did not work, it was that the lock somehow always managed to unlock itself for her. Tucker had tried the lock during a passing period when she was not there once to find it firmly closed.

That was part of one of Sam's secrets, he knew. The odd things that happened around her. It was as if a friend who knew her combination always unlocked it for her and then left it for her to open. Books would flip to the right page, or be miraculously in the right order, things that were thrown at her would never hit, the last time she'd been bullied the boy had found himself banging into the locker with his pants around his ankles. Sometimes, so faint and so fleeting that Tucker had been sure the first few times he had imagined it, he thought he saw a figure standing or flying next to her.

Yes, odd things always happened around Sam.

"Yeah," Sam's voice pulled him out of his thoughts as she collected her books. "Did you even do the reading?"

"Of course not!" Tucker pushed aside his curiosity and summoned up a grin. "You know me!"

_"I heard her house is haunted..."_

No, Samantha Manson's house wasn't haunted.

But Samantha Manson herself definitely was.

* * *

_'There it is again,'_ Tucker thought, his attention wandering from the book, but he was careful to look only with his eyes. The strange ghost had occasionally caught him looking, and would disappear immediately. He was confident that Sam would have come to him if the ghost was anything less-than-good to her, and he knew she had to have noticed her haunting... Especially since she always evaded his questions and occasionally outright refused to tell him anything. But he couldn't help but worry.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the vague figure lean over Sam's shoulder, reading the textbook she had laid open on her desk. The ghost put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to whisper something in her ear that made her smile and give a silent giggle.

Sam was perfectly comfortable with the fact that she was being haunted, but Tucker still wasn't so sure that he was. Heck, the only thing he could tell about the ghost was that it was kinda short, maybe about his own height.

Of course, the ghost had never done anything bad to Sam as far as he could tell. In fact, everything had been helpful, like helping her with work. But still... Ghost hauntings were not normal, even in a city that was supposed to be haunted.

Or so Wikipedia claimed. Sure, there were plenty of rumors, talk of people who had experienced ghost attacks, but he'd seen little evidence.

Except for the ghost haunting Sam.

Before he'd realized it, he'd turned his head towards the ghost, watching with fascination as the spirit pointed to things on Sam's textbook and paper. Tucker's brow furrowed.

Was the ghost helping Sam with her schoolwork?

'Well, it might not have anything better to do while Sam is in class,' Tucker thought. He narrowed his eyes, mentally willing the ghost to become just a little bit more distinct.

The ghost's head turned his way, what was probably an expression of surprise. For a split second, it was completely distinct, and then it was gone.

_'He,' _Tucker realized. That split second had been enough to notice a very distinct lack of a figure._ 'Sam is being haunted by a __**boy.'**_

His determination to figure out why the ghost was haunting her doubled immediately.

* * *

Somehow, Tucker found himself passing by the old Fenton house on the way home from school.

It was almost universally avoided by the kids at school. Some said it was haunted; others said it was cursed; and still others said that old, bitterly single Jack Fenton was a ghost hunting maniac. Nobody had said that he was a ghost, though, and that was only because he showed up every week at the nearest grocery store to buy food.

"Meow!"

Tucker snapped himself out of his staring (when had he started starting at the Fenton house? He didn't know), to look down and see a large cat twining about his ankles, looking up at him with imploring turquoise eyes. He wasn't a cat person, but he still reached down with a smile and ran his hand over the cat's silky orange fur.

_'Pretty cat,' _Tucker thought. The look in the cat's eyes was intelligent, but she – or he, he really didn't know, but something told him that this cat was a she – still enjoyed the attention. He found himself staring at the cat, searching for something in the cat's eyes that he did not receive.

"Jasmine!" A rough, loud voice called. The door of the Fenton house opened, and Tucker found himself looking for the first time at Jack Fenton, the resident 'crazy man' if the rumors were to be believed.

He looked simultaneously odd and at the same time, perfectly normal. On the normal side, his roughly cut, slightly overgrown black hair was flecked with grey; he was pudgy, and his eyes were blue and his face seemed as if it had once been friendly. On the abnormal side, he was incredibly tall, clad in an orange jumpsuit, and his face was spotted heavily with enormous red pimples.

There was another rumor, one that said he had some kind of disease.

The cat rubbed its head against Tucker's leg one more time and then streaked over to Mr Fenton, who picked the cat up with surprising gentleness. A tender look came into his eyes, "There you are, Jasmine."

With that, the orange jumpsuit clad man went back in side, leaving Tucker to his thoughts.

* * *

**A/N: **I haven't forgotten Obsessions, but this idea just wouldn't go away.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two: Spirits.**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

Tucker hardly payed attention to where he was walking the next morning on the way to school. His mind was caught up with his revelation of the ghost's gender and, for some reason, that cat and the Fenton house. The cat had been such a pretty thing, really, with vibrant fur and such bright and intelligent eyes. He felt like he knew those eyes somewhere.

He stopped, and looked up to realize that once again he'd found himself outside the Fenton house. His gaze was drawn to it, almost hypnotically.  
_  
'It looks... empty...'_ Tucker thought absently to himself, and then shook his head. It was no different from the other houses on the block, why would he think it looked empty?

Staring at it more, Tucker felt like it was dull. It was the brightest house on the street, and yet it still felt so unbelievably dull and lifeless.

A meow sounded from near his feet, something touched his leg.  
_  
He and Sam walked up the steps, laughing and joking, a boy with black hair and a girl with red hair accompanying them._

Tucker's knees shook and he put a hand to his head. _'What the hell was that?'_ After a few moments to clear his head of the strange vision, he lifted his hand away to look at the cat. Jasmine - that was what Mr Fenton had called her, wasn't it? - looked up at him imploringly with those large, brilliant turquoise eyes. Something in the gaze shifted, and then quite suddenly there was something not quite catlike in the cat's eyes anymore, it was something more intelligent, even more so than before. It was something...

Human.

This simultaneously drew him forward and scared him. The cat took off, and he felt his feet following almost against his will. He followed the cat as it darted around the trash can outside the house, meowing and scratching at it and then looking at him with the look of a person begging. He hesitantly moved forward and lifted the lid off the trash can.

"What am I _doing?_" Tucker muttered. But he couldn't stop himself. He picked up the strange device on the top, what looked like a little gun-looking thing on a wristband. The cat made a sound of glee, and then the human look was gone, and the cat started twining around his legs again, seeking attention. Tucker put the lid of the trashcan back and absently petted the cat, still looking at the odd device before he put it into his backpack and stood up. The cat protested. Something in the cat's mewls made his heart hurt.

"I'll be back," He murmured to the cat. "Promise..." He stared at the cat for a few moments. "Jasmine doesn't suit you," he decided abruptly. "I think I'll call you Jazz." With that, he left.

He didn't notice the human gleam return to the cat's eyes as it purred in delight.

* * *

During Lunch time, something happened. It started like a wave, a scream came from one corner of the cafeteria and then was joined by other screams as people got to their feet with alarm and stampeded towards the door. It took a moment for Tucker to identify the source of the terror.

Glowing, transparent forms, of many shapes and species, were spreading through the wall. At first, they looked disorganized, but then it dawned on Tucker that they were looking for something.

But that wasn't important. The ghosts were demolishing things in their search. They were dangerous, and they should probably run.

"Sam, let's get-"

He froze. Sam was nowhere to be seen. He hoped that she had just escaped already, but he knew Sam, and she would never run off without him.

Swallowing his fear of the ghosts, he began to look for her.

* * *

"Oh no..." Tucker panicked in near silence, peering through the crack in the janitor's closet door. He had been the only one who hadn't gotten all the way out when the ghosts had driven the students out of the school. Now they swarmed the halls, and there he was, stuck in the janitor's closet because there was no way to get out without being seen. This was the first time he'd really seen a ghost, despite the claims that Amity Park was haunted - well, unless you counted those occasional glimpses of Sam's ghostly friend. He just hoped Sam had gotten out okay.

A chill brushed over his skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

"Tucker, what are you still doing here?" A voice asked quietly beside his ear. Tucker turned, seeing glowing green eyes, and nearly yelped, almost knocking the door open, but a cold gloved hand grabbed his arm and another clamped over his mouth. "Shh! You'll get their attention! I'm the good guy here!" He pulled him away from the door. "Promise not to scream?"

Tucker nodded, his eyes still wide over the ghost's hand. The hands lowered.

"Sorry I startled you," the ghost apologized. Even in the dark of the room, his faint glow illuminated his figure. He was a slender boy, perhaps an inch taller than Tucker and the slightest bit skinnier, his body clad in a black jumpsuit with white lining, white gloves, and white boots. A somewhat jagged symbol of a P within a D was proudly emblazoned on the torso of the jumpsuit - white, like every other part that wasn't black. Framing his pale face and brilliant glowing green eyes was a shock of messy white hair.

As Tucker took in this ghost, he realized three things. One, was that though his glimpses of the ghost haunting Sam had been few and far between, never more than a second, he was absolutely certain that this was the same ghost. Two was that for whatever reason, Tucker knew he could trust this ghost with his life. Three...

Three was that there was something terribly wrong, and yet _right_. It was the same feeling when he'd met Sam those years ago, of completing another part of a puzzle to find that there is a single piece missing, ruining the entire thing. There was that feeling that he _knew_ this ghost.

_Black hair falling into laughing blue eyes, a cheerful grin._

Tucker blinked away the strange images, realizing that the ghost was looking at him in a mixture of worry and confusion. "S-Sorry, I... You... Nevermind..."

"Uh, okay... Stay here while I take care of the ghosts," the ghost - no, the boy... this ghost could have not been more than fifteen when he'd died - instructed firmly. Suddenly, Tucker felt very sad.

With his words said, the boy vanished, and Tucker turned to peer through the slit between the door and the doorframe again, watching the ghost boy fight the other ghosts off. Soon the ghosts in the hall were gone, and the boy had gone off to fight the others. He was tempted to try to sneak out, but he decided to wait and see of the boy would return.

There was a light knock on the door of the closet, and then it peaked open, the ghost boy looking at him in concern and relief, "Oh good, you're still okay. The ghosts are all gone, you're safe now."

"Thanks," Tucker said. The ghost sent him an odd look, and then moved aside to let Tucker walk past. "You-" Tucker stopped. He had been intent on asking the ghost about something, about why he was haunting Sam (because even though Tucker had the insane idea that he could trust this ghost, he wouldn't really trust _any_ boy with being around his best, and very hot friend), but he abandoned his attempt with a sigh.

Because the ghost boy was already gone.

* * *

It had taken a few hours for the police to stop questioning him, and then, just as the sun was beginning to set, he started towards home.

For the third time. Tucker found himself standing in the shadows by the Fenton house. He had not seen Mr Fenton again, but after a few moments of standing, the cat he'd decided to call Jazz came slinking over from around the house and came to him.

"Wonder why you like me so much," Tucker mused as he pet the cat fondly. "You're a weird cat, you know that?"

"Meow?" the cat gave him a look of such innocence that in a human he would have thought it fake. But this was a cat, weird or not.

"I met a ghost today," Tucker found himself telling the cat. "The one that's been haunting my friend for a while. He ran off before I could talk to him though," Tucker scowled. "It's really weird, but he looks familiar, and I thought I saw something when I saw him. Which is totally ridiculous, even more ridiculous than me talking to a cat," he grinned. "I must be going nuts."

The cat butted his head reassuringly, as if to tell him that he wasn't nuts.

"I don't even know why I keep coming this way," Tucker admitted to the cat. He checked his watch, "Crud, I'm gonna be late. I'll probably be back tomorrow, since I keep ending up over here," he smiled at the cat and stood up, hurrying off in the direction of his house. A soft meow made him pause at the end of the street and he looked back, blinking.

For a moment, he'd thought he'd seen a girl standing in the cat's place. A girl with long red hair.

* * *

**A/N:** I bet you 've all guessed the secret of the cat named Jasmine by now. But hopefully you won't get _everything_, at least not yet.

Hopefully this won't be too confusing, but things will make more sense later on, especially when the timeline starts to match up to Canon Danny's appearance in the alternate timeline. I... can't really explain more without spoiling plot elements, but it will totally make sense!... Or at least it makes sense to me.

Thanks for the reviews. Hopefully the next chapter of _Obsessions _will be out soon.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three: Life**_

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* * *

  
**_

Slender pale fingers clenched around a branch until the little colour had vanished. Strange purple eyes stared at the school building, unwavering except an occasional blink.

Sam hated this. She hated waiting. She hated feeling powerless. She never knew if something would happen to him when he fought, never knew if one day he would simply not be there anymore. Those thoughts always made her breath waver and her heart beat faster and from far, far away, she could _feel_ him fighting harder to get back to her. That was the only thing that made those moments bearable, those feelings of shame at her worry that resonated through her mind and soul, a firm reminder that he was alive.

Or at least, that he was still there.

A light, almost unnoticeable pain - not even as painful as a papercut or the scalding of hot tea - passed over her arm. Despite the weakness of the pain, she cringed as if she had been mortally wounded. It wasn't the pain itself that bothered her, it was that she felt it. The phantom pain continued to twinge in her arm, still barely noticeable except that she was looking for it in her mind.

Quite suddenly, she_ knew_ everything was alright, and she slumped against the tree trunk, a light smile of relief gracing her pale features as she waited. It took a few minutes, but then a cold breeze ruffled her hair.

"You got hurt again," Sam accused, staring at the source of the cold.

"Sorry," his soft voice whispered in her ear, and his cold breath made her shiver. "I was trying to rush. Tucker was stuck in a closet."

"What?!" Sam yelped. There was a warning hiss and she found herself wrapped in icelike arms and completely invisible, one hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

"What was that?" voices called from beneath the tree. "Did you hear something?"

"Yeah," a voice agreed. "Think someone's still here?"

"We should look..."

Their voices trailed away, and for several moments she could hear nothing but his breathing, before he pulled away and both of them flickered into view.

"Sorry, Phantom," Sam apologized softly.

The green-eyed boy offered her a gentle smile. "S'kay. I'd be going crazy stuck in a tree for half an hour too. Let's go home."

She nodded, and then was abruptly swept into his arms. Within seconds they were in the air and flying, invisible to human eyes. "Tucker was still in the school?"

"I guess he didn't get out in time," Phantom sighed. "He's okay, though. He hid in a closet and I found him and made sure he got out okay."

"Thank goodness," she relaxed in his arms, smiling at him for a moment before her face darkened. "I'm still mad at you for getting hurt."

Phantom laughed nervously, "I know."

"I'm going to probably yell at you," Sam added.

"I know that too..."

"That's kinda a moot point. Of course you know," Sam rolled her eyes. "But I'm glad you're okay."

Phantom smiled at her, "I know."

"Oh no!" Sam gasped suddenly. "I bet Tucker was looking for me! Dangit, this is all my fault - wait, no, it's your fault!" She glared at him. "If you had just let me run away with everybody else instead of turning me intangible and sticking me in that stupid tree-"

Phantom gave her a long-suffering look and endured her chastising all the way to the Manson manor. It didn't cease when he put her gently down on the ground and she stomped her way to the kitchen to make them both something to eat. Occasionally he tried to derail her train of thought unsuccessfully.

Of course, it was then that Ida Manson's hearty laughter cut into her rant. There was a whirring sound, the one that always accompanied Ida's wheelchair, and the old woman came through the doorway. Her soft violet eyes dancing merrily from behind her glasses. "What did you do now, Little Phantom?"

Phantom spared a warm smile for the old woman, "I got a little scratch in a fight. Sam's throwing a fit over it. That, and I stuck her in a tree so she wouldn't get hurt. A ghost attacked the school today, Granny."

"Oh my," Ida's eyes widened. "You got hurt, you say? Do you need the first aid kit?"

"Nope!" Phantom shook his head. He proudly displayed his arm, which, aside from a little bit of green ectoplasm coating the wound, was entirely healed. "You know me. Fastest healer alive!"

Ida snorted. _"Alive,_ huh?"

"Sandwiches!" Sam declared, shoving a sandwich into both Phantom's hands and Ida's. She sent her grandmother a miffed look, one that quite plainly told her not to bring up the subject of living again.

Ida sighed.

* * *

_"I wish you remembered," _the girl's voice echoed softly. It was an oddly familiar sound - high and proper - ringing in his head as if it had simply bypassed his ears and spoken to his mind.

_'Who is that?'_ Tucker thought to himself. He tried to move, but he was too immersed in sleep, an odd state of semi-awareness.

_"It's been such a long time... But you __**do**__ remember, don't you?"_ her voice turned hopeful, determined.

_'Remember? Remember what?'_

_"Not a lot, but you knew, somehow... Nobody else did, not even Dad. Why you? But why do I care how?" _she asked herself. _"This is the first time I've been able to get anyone to see me as anything other than just Minnie."_

In his mind, he could picture a girl with red hair laughing, and suddenly he knew that this was who the voice belonged to.

"Meow."

Something tickled his nose, and he jerked abruptly out of his sleepy state. He became suddenly aware of a weight on his chest and he looked down to see Jazz the Cat peering at him with those odd turquoise eyes.

"How did you get in here?" Tucker wondered. He looked around. He was on the second story, his door was closed, and so was his window. "Did you sneak into my backpack or something?"

Jazz shook her head, and Tucker blinked. He must have been imagining things, or perhaps it was a coincidence, because cats didn't answer questions.

"I guess I'll drop you off at Mr Fenton's house on the way to school. God, I hope he's not mad at me. How the hell did you get in here anyway?" Tucker shook his head in confusion and started towards his closet to grab some clean clothes. Jazz meowed and moved to turn away. Tucker looked at the cat for a moment, and then blushed.

_'It's just a cat!'_ Tucker told himself firmly as he changed, but still the blush remained. "What the hell am I getting embarrassed about changing in front of a cat for?"

Only another meow answered him.

* * *

Tucker gulped and then knocked slowly at the door, Jazz cradled in one arm, and then waited. After several moments, the door slowly opened, and the spotted face of Jack Fenton was towering over him.

"Jasmine!" He said gleefully, taking the cat from Tucker with that same strange gentleness he had displayed with the cat before. He looked at Tucker with a mix of suspicion and gratitude, "Where did you find her?"

"By my house," Tucker lied, forcing a smile onto his face. For some reason, he was reluctant to let go of the cat. "I remembered seeing her before by here, so I figured she must have gotten lost."

The man looked at him for a moment, and then nodded, a small smile on his face, "Thank you for returning her. I don't know what I would have done if I lost Jasmine."

Jazz mewled again. Pity stabbed through Tucker like an iron sword. For some reason, the image of Jack Fenton, acne-free and happy, with a curvy and beautiful red headed woman seemed to float to his brain. He blinked repeatedly and tried to push away the strange image. "I've got to go to school, Sir."

"Thank you again."

"It was no problem," Tucker replied automatically. He backed away slowly, trying to will the odd image of Jack Fenton with a family out of his mind, "B-bye!"

He ran.

From what, he didn't know.

* * *

"Sam, I know you're being haunted," Tucker said bluntly. He had caught up to her on the way to school and then seized her arm to stop her from advancing further towards their place of education. "I saw him yesterday. He fought the ghosts in the school. You're not avoiding the subject anymore."

"Tucker, you must have been-" A glare silenced her. She sighed, "Fine. Yes, I'm being haunted. Happy?"

"Why?"

"Why what?" Sam blinked.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Why are you being haunted? And you can come out!" He added, glaring around at the air. "I know you're there. You're always there."

No answer, but he could have sworn that something had shifted.

"We don't know why," Sam admitted, as if he hadn't been yelling at the air. "He's always been there. But he's not bad or anything!" Sam added hastily. "Phantom is my best friend!"

"I know," Tucker said, fixing her with a look that made it plain that it was obvious. "Look, will you tell him to come out? Please? I'm not gonna freak out or anything. I just want to properly meet the guy."

Sam bit her lip thoughtfully, and then nodded. In an instant, the oddly familiar form of the ghost boy from last night melted into view, looking worried as he nervously ran a hand through his messy white hair.

Tucker stuck out his hand to the boy, "Hi. You obviously know me, but _someone_ didn't see fit that we were properly introduced, so we'll have to do that now. I'm Tucker Foley, and you are?"

The boy stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge his intentions, before he slowly allowed himself a smile and shook Tucker's hand. "I'm Phantom."

* * *

**A/N:** I know this fanfic probably makes like no sense at all. But I promise it will make sense eventually, even if it might not be exactly what you're expecting. It's... just a weird idea, and it incorporates a lot of really strange things into it... But technically, it could be canon. Also, I support Tucker/Jazz, I hope nobody minds. I don't mind Tucker/Valerie, but I really prefer Tucker and Jazz, and I'll read the ones with Valerie but I won't write them. I'm going to go into more depth about the psychic connection, Tucker's moments with Jazz, and some other stuff, but that will be later. Can't go into it all at once, now, can I?

Also, if anyone has any guesses as to certain aspects of the story, I really want to hear them. I want to know what other people are getting from this, because obviously I know what everything means, but I don't know if anyone else does, or if it's too obvious. Reviews help me write better :)

With that said, thank you all so much for the reviews I've already received.


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